|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Someday This Could Be Funny Chapter One: The Thirteenth of February
The first thought that ran through Crowley’s head as he looked up (and up) at the tall and glowering demon before him, arms crossed and eyes a-flicker, was that he must be able to get out of whatever it was that he’d done without realizing somehow. (Actually, it was Oh sssshit!, but that wasn’t nearly as specific.)
“Hi, Hastur, can I he—” he began, and was subsequently slammed into the wall behind him. Tiny outcroppings of stone dug into his back, and he blessed the prevalence of “natural” architecture in Hell. There was certainly something to be said for sheetrock when it came to the list of Favorite Materials to Be Violently Pushed Against.
“You’re coming with me tomorrow,” Hastur snarled, fangs bared. He gave the shoulder he’d pinned the junior demon another grind into the rock and balled his other fist tighter into
The Monstermaker: Ch. IThe woman was dead, and his involvement was at an end. Hastur leant against the wall and conjured himself a smoke, wrapping his tongue around the end of the cigarette when he was finished enough and flicking it down his throat. He’d liberated them from the body and they still tasted a little of blood, but that had never stopped him.
The familiar voice shook him out of his reverie. Turning, he beheld a short, stocky figure in a pinstriped suit and raised a brow.
The last time he'd seen the demon Phelan, they had both been in the rather awkward position of trying to save the world. It had also been the last time he'd expected -- or wanted, really -- to see him again, ever. Phelan wasn't exactly acceptable dinner-guest material. Admittedly, neither was Hastur most of the time, but the junior demon gave him a vague and nebulous case of the jeebies whenever he spent enough time in his presence.
It wasn't the red slit-pupiled eyes and the slight
calling homeSometimes when it's really dark and I'm lying in my bed alone — even when it's not just me — I see these little lights. I don't know if it's dreaming or not, but it's the prettiest thing you could ever see that's not the face of someone you love; all colors sometimes they are, winking on and off, and they just make me feel so much better.
I see them when I cry from time to time. I still cry. He says I can do it all I want, he teases me and it makes me think maybe I shouldn't, I should be grown up even though nobody ever treated me grown up and it's awfully hard to be something nobody ever said you could be, but he says he likes it, that it shows I'm sweet. I wish I didn't want to do it so often. But it hurts. Everything hurts even when it's wonderful, maybe especially then. And isn't it lovely then? I don't feel alone when they're around me, all those lights.
Your Insignificant GoddessHe curled himself loosely, soft legs and loose arms, against the wall like a prawn on a plate. He kept his lashes low, his face turned away from me, only moving to write and place the slate in front of my knees.
I'VE DONE MY TIME.
"I know, sweetie." I crouched beside him, reaching out to take his shoulder and then thinking better of it. I kept forgetting that he was younger than me, younger by several years. Sometimes, though, it was all too apparent. He was cold and firm, but there was so much simplicity in the smoothness of his face and limbs, this body like mine that time hadn't carved idiosyncracies into yet, his face like a brush painting the way I'd imagined it: uncomplicated, clean, fresh. "And you've done it better than I could ever have done."
I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK. I'M TIRED OF BEING HIS DOG.
"You won't be forever," I whispered. The threat of tears squeezed the backs of my eyeballs. This blessing, this cursed blessing. He was so real, so good, and now it too was real, what
Sweetest Silent SongHe sits in the window that shows the view most like Heaven with an empty book in his lap, stroking it like an inconsolable child. Silent.
I have never had the words to comfort or express. My language has always been that of clashing spears and cold hard coordinates; I can mimic the masters of pathos when it serves me well, but when it comes to speaking my own true emotions I am as dumb as the butt of a spear. Any elegance I may have, I learned from him.
Once I had the honor of belonging to the sweetest song in Hell.
And now that voice is silenced, perhaps forever. The gash across his throat boasts itself like a second mouth mocking the uselessness of the first. The memory of seeing him take it will forever drown out the rest of the battle; the blood of the one who inflicted it has long been washed from my hands into oblivion, but the consequences remain.
His pen is just as silent now. He no longer writes, for with no ability to reproduce the music or narrate he composes all j
At Night, The River"Enjoying the night, Mordecai?"
The child looked up and smiled as Silvia settled next to her, interrupting the song he had been murmuring while sitting on the bench overlooking the river, kicking his booted feet. His teeth were very white and sharp, his eyes were a deep purple, and his hair was fair. He could have been anywhere from twelve to fifteen, and neither.
He was one of the few creatures Silvia Marsh feared.
"Where's your Ezra?"
"Duke Riesgraf-Carleton is at home taking his rest, as if you didn't know," said Silvia, more stiffly than she had intended. "I'm alone tonight."
Mordecai snuggled into her leather-clad shoulder, wrapping a little white hand around her bicep. Despite the thick coat between them, Silvia shivered at the chill of his skin. "I could warm you up."
"I don't think so. I'm here for information, not your sick idea of playtime."
He pouted, all sugar. "You hate me, don't you? Silvia, you know I think you're pretty. You remind me of a girl I killed in Prague. Just
Less Like A Lake, More Like A MoatLess Like a Lake, More Like a Moat
It was a culmination of things I have been holding in from love to loneliness-- and it just snapped. Then all of that love and loneliness poured out of my heart like the tiny white flakes falling from those sugar packets. I not only love you. I am IN love with you. It's obvious now. I'm not afraid of the thought or being insanely, mentally connected in some weird way. I know where my heart is--
And where is that? I'm sorry, I just...need for you to actually, consciously think about it.
I know where my heart is. My heart is here. With us. I literally just put myself out there with a chance of being crushed. That's how I know how I feel.
If your whole heart is here and mine is too, then it's all good.
I'm letting the prospect bleed into the prophecy. I've been consciously thinking about it for quite awhile. I am in love. And I can only speak for me.
My heart is here, too. And for a while there I was afraid that was a mistake. But I trust you
TNM-GUERRA ENTRE ELEMENTOS CAP-2Después de que agarrara el libro me fui corriendo a mi habitación, de que sea una “princesa” como mis padres me llaman no significa que no Deva hacer travesura, me recosté en mi cama y abrí el libro este tenía la portada algo desgastada la cual era así: http://www.iberlibro.com/servlet/FrameBase?content=/es/imagegallery/imagegallery.shtml?images=http://pictures.abebooks.com/CAMILLESOURGET/10716889343.jpg,http://pictures.abebooks.com/CAMILLESOURGET/10716889343_2.jpg es lindo pero esta todo lleno de polvo y eso me causa alergia, empecé a estornudar y sabia que me iban a escuchar así que rápido guarde el libro y me acosté.
Después de un rato papa entro a la habitación
-te encuentras bien cariño?- me pregunta en tono paterno
-si ACHU solo es un poco de ACHU alergia- dije dándole una sonrisa
-bien descansa, que mañana quiero enseñarte a montar- me da un beso en la frente y sale de mi cuarto
KissSensual. Passionate. Intimate. Heated. Close. Personal.
Those are some of the words you can describe a kiss. But why choose only a selection of words when you can string them into sentences?
Their lips didn’t awkwardly crash like those rushed scenes in movies when the characters realise they love each other. No, their lips were slowly guided towards each other by their partner’s love and light which illuminated the dark world that almost consumed them. At first, it was awkward since they didn’t choreograph or set a rhythm for their dancing but lips but soon, they melted into each other’s embrace like winter snow thawing to the beautiful welcome of spring. They set their rhythm according to the beat of their song, the consistent drumming of their hearts that were begging for unison, pounding against the restraints of the cages that kept them apart. As the intensity and desire for each other grew, so did the need for oxygen, forcing the lovers apart much to their
Because I Love YouAt the fringe of the grove Thaddigan rested his back against one of the monolithic broadleaf trees that fortified his village. Strings of merry, colorful lanterns illuminated the reunion of the Ironwood village and the nomadic men of the Kazic-Kalla tribe. Everywhere laughter resounded, stories were traded and bonds rekindled. Boisterous musicians of both groups performed in harmony the songs mutually composed for this specific occasion. The air was laced with the enticing aromas of roasted meats, tender loaves of bread and sweets of all description. Joyous moods were further lubricated with golden, barrel-aged ales and nectarous wines.
As a seventeen-year-old who had not yet undergone the ritualistic passage of manhood, Thaddigan was only permitted to partake in such libations during special occasions, a rule to which he had few objections. The single flagon he'd downed, even filtered through a stomach of heavy food, was making his head swim. It likely didn't help that he
De regreso en danville cap-15Marie: genial *dije sarcástica*
Marcus: sabes no era necesario el sarcasmo *en eso se escuchan gritos y caen sam y cami y más atrás jazz *
Marie: están bien? *ayude a parar a sam y dezz a cami*
Sam: si gracias *ayuda a parar a jazz*
Jazz: aun no me acostumbro a eso
Marcus: pues tendrás que acostumbrarte
Marie: que venimos a hacer aquí
Marcus: 1.- se las llevaran para que se cambien de ropa 2.- se las llevaran a una prueba de agilidad y esas cosas
¿?: Marc estas son las nuevas espías *se nos acerco una chica de majo menos 16 o 17 años*
Marcus: si ellas son
¿?: Me presento soy Verónica Brown tengo 17 años y yo voy a ser su guía en esto
Jazz: oye yo nunca te he visto por aquí?
Vero: lose pero estuve en una misión que me tomo años completar y hasta ahora lo pude lograr *dijo con una sonrisa*
Jazz: oh eso lo explica todo
Marcus: bueno vero puedes llevar a las chicas para que se cambien de ropa
Vero: claro, bueno
sailing through tragediesThis is what a ‘tragedy’ feels like.
The thought had sailed through his star-crossed mind many nights before, but denial kept pushing back the bittersweet acceptance. He had loved her, with that one crooked tooth and her flushed cheeks, yet even through his love his heart had never started ticking again. He remembered laughing and crying and yelling and longing.
The crossroads of nerves tingling his skin never sent the message all the way to the cavities of his heart. The numbness surrounding his body remained even when she touched him.
But surely he had loved her, right? He had actually loved her. He was almost sure.
Sanity and insanity met paths many times in his short lifetime, and he always found himself questioning the world. Like clockwork his brain marked the hours of his increasing instability.
He was sure now, more than ever, that the tragic qualities of his life were not reflected by the death of his love. Simply, the tragedy came within himself and his inc
Sky X slender part 1 CREEPYPASTA!SKY BELONGS TO :iconelectricsky25: NOT ME! oh and this was my idea! MWHAHAHA!!!!!!!!
it was a nromle day at slender mansion grim sitting next to jeff talking about killing (YES i am in here SKY is my sister! :3) sky noming on a muffin.
"Sky!" BEN said.
"what?" sky said. (ben sky ben sky ben sky ECT!)
"slender wants you."
"okay. *walks up to slender*"
(end of ben and sky chatting)
"this is going to be funneh." grim said with a laugh.
"why?" asked jeff.
"cuz its all a lie." BEN said.
"really?" asked jeff.
"yep. there going to be offender there. nakedddd X3" grim said.
"WTF XD really?!" asked jeff laughing. (XD)
"YEP." grim said XD
END OF PART 1!
LOLOLOLOL I HOPE YOU LIKE xD
Makoto Tachibana X reader
"(Y/N)! Why did you call me? Is there something wrong?" Makoto yelled not far from behind. I stiffened at his voice and my face turned pale. "Should i? I might hurt his feelings? No, i need to do this..." I thought as i turned to Makoto with a slight smile on my face.
Makoto stoped when he saw my face. "(Y/N)? Are you okay? Your a little pale.." Makoto mumbled and he placed his hand on my cheek. I held back my tears that was ready to fall, as much as i know, i think Makoto didn't notice.
"Makoto-kun...." I muttered as i gently took away his hand from my cheek. "I-i need to talk to you. It's important..." I stated in a monotone way but inside, i felt like my heart is dying.
Makoto stared at me for a while before nodding. "Sure, but you need to make it quick. We still have a relay practice." I nodded at his statement. I need to make this quick and try not to make his heart break.
"Makoto-kun, i think we should break up." I said while gripping my skirt tightly. Makoto gasped
the countdown to goodbyeIt only takes twelve seconds.
It’s the flutter of a heartbeat as eyelashes curl upward. A summer warmth that flushes the cheeks, turning a rosy pink in the evening sunlight. she tilts her sapphire eyes to meet yours with a gaze speaking profoundly of trust.
It’s the snarl of her lip when she has been wronged. The flicker of fire deep in her chest, setting aflame the shoelace strings you’ve sewn around her heart. A slight exhale of a shaky breath and and the moment is gone, faded and washed away like waves on the sand.
It’s lightly licking her lips and tasting the bitter scratch of sea salt as tears line her soft, subtle mouth. The tender smile she shares when a wrong is forgiven and her eye beds run dry. She cocks her head to the side and listens to the woes of the world outside.
It’s a song ringing with harmony as she throws her head back and floods the air with laughter. The flicker of hope in her eyes shines like lightning bugs on the bay. She turns and
O My MetropolisTear yourself from your boundaries, o my metropolis, and drift with the graceful slowness of continents to my arms. Though the others look not upon you, for you are black with smoke and sharp with the tongues of your children, I rejoice, for mine eyes have their full run of your rough and uncouth fierceness.
Come to my arms, o Manchester, and fit your city limits round my roads, your slums to my city centre. You make me desire the filth of the streets and the grey of bleak great winter skies above bleaker little lives.
Dirty me, my dear.
Keep in Touch!
Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More